


An Out Of Body Experience

by ArkoftheOutlaws



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), はたらく細胞 | Hataraku Saibou | Cells at Work! (Anime), はたらく細胞 | Hataraku Saibou | Cells at Work! (Manga), はたらく細胞BLACK | Hataraku Saibou Black (Manga)
Genre: Cells at Work - Freeform, D:Bh, Gen, No Erythrocytes are safe, Some Cursing, Some depictions of germ death, Somehow this crossover works, except for one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkoftheOutlaws/pseuds/ArkoftheOutlaws
Summary: A stranger comes to a familiar land with strange laws.A native guides his way home.But does he want to leave?





	1. A Life Changing Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you if you decide to read this. There are many underlying plot details that a very astute reader might be able to discover. The story starts off a bit slow but bear with it. Enjoy!

 

 

~ _He_   _Falls_   _To_   _The Sky_   _To_ _A_ _Joy_   _Unknown_ ~

 

* * *

 

 

All is dark. His head aches. Where was he? Were his colleagues still fighting that battle? Did they lose? Was this... apoptosis?

 

* * *

 

 

Joy Johnson was familiar with her world. Her classes were simple. She was financially stable. Hell, she even had an android roommate to call a friend. Yes. Things were going wonderfully. She was on track towards a bachelor’s in English Literature and her life seemed to be going smoothly.

 

Until...

 

Joy was walking home from a long class and decided to take a cut through the park. She took in the sounds of the songbirds and the leaves.

She spoke aloud to herself, a way to amuse herself, “The forest is the devil’s playground, ey? Seems doubtful.”

She stuck to the well-worn path in the leaf-litter. She took in her surroundings. There was a nip in the air, foretelling the coming of fall. Despite the impending doom of their leaves, the trees almost shone emerald in the bright sunlight.

Along her walking, Joy spotted garnet drops on a thorn bush by the path. She tilted her head and considered the blood.

‘Someone must’ve gotten scratched on those thorns. Ouch. Might need help, so I better keep an eye out.’ She deduced silently.

And so she did, making sure to watch for any others in the area. Despite her vigilance, she failed to notice the figure sprawled out near the side of the path. Her oblivion was so great that... she tripped over the figure.

Joy’s books flew from her arms and onto the dirt as she face-planted. So much for a pleasant walk.

The student got to her feet, careful not to step on whatever she had tripped over, and turned to it. She gasped at the sight.

In the dirt was a man. He seemed approximately her age with a spiky mess of white hair and more pale than she ever thought a human could be. His outfit was also white, though stained brown with soil and what seemed to be dried blood. He had been injured, scratches torn in his jacket. She noticed that he also had sheaths along his belt and legs. Six combat knives were resting within each respectively. Was he some kind of soldier? A criminal perhaps? She stepped away from this odd, pale man.

Then... he stirred. A grunt came from him as he came to. ‘At least he isn’t dead...’ she thought. The man opened his eyes. His dark gray irises peered up at her in sheer confusion. She took another step back as he absorbed his surroundings, sitting up onto his elbows.He noticed her books still laying in the dirt of the path and reached over. He gave them to her with a sheepish but kind grin.

 

She knew what she had to do...


	2. Stones And Sticklers

~ _A Walk Among Stones And Flesh~_

 

* * *

 

 

“YOU BROUGHT HIM **_HOME???_** ”

Talia was practically screaming to the top of her artificial lungs. Joy felt awkward under the android’s gaze. Her friend, a police-android-turned-hair-stylist, was chastising her in the living room of their apartment. 

“You don’t just  _bring a random stranger **home**_!”

Joy shifted her feet awkwardly. “Sorry, Tally... I guess it was kinda dumb. But I couldn’t just leave him out in the woods! What if, like, a bear got him??”

The PM700 relented, albeit begrudgingly. “And where is he now?”

”Resting in my room. Why?”

”I’m thinking maybe I can get someone to investigate this... weirdo.”

Joy knew what that meant. She squinted up at her taller friend. “I highly doubt he’s a criminal...”

”You can never be too careful.”

”But—“

Joy was interrupted by footsteps. They both turned towards the sound. The stranger had woken up and was now leaning in the doorway, presumably eavesdropping. There was something new about his attire now: he wore a white, but dirty, baseball-style cap on his head. Embroidered on the front in black thread were the perplexing words of “White Blood Cell”. 

The... cell? waved to them nonchalantly. “‘Sup? Couldn’t help but hear you were talking about me.”

The duo merely blinked at him. Joy was trying to make sense of this. Talia took the liberty of scanning him, but her results were inconclusive. The LED on her temple blinked yellow, reflecting both of their puzzlement. The odd stranger’s eye caught onto the LED and he raised a thick, ivory eyebrow. 

“And you guys are...?”

Talia regained her composure first. “Talia Stevens, a PM700 model, which means I’m a cop so don’t try anything funny, pal.”

Their guest nodded slightly in acknowledgment, tipping his hat a bit. “A pleasure. I’m U-1000.”

Joy wasn’t quite back to her senses and blurted, “Why does your hat say ‘cell’?”

U-1000 took the question in stride. “Because I’m a White Blood Cell. Specifically, a Neutrophil.”

”How the fu.....?” Talia cut her off, “How in rA9’s name are you a neutrophil? You don’t look like some blob in a textbook. And that hair...” She shudered. “Y’all need a hairdo, son. Like, get a new color.” But she was quick to add, “Not saying anything, just suggesting!”

”Riiight... Lovely... I better get back to work. So, uhhh, where am I?” U-1000 looked between them, trying to figure out what kind of cells they were. They didn’t look like common cells, but maybe he’d been transfused without noticing. No..., he usually noticed. (He didn’t mean to dodge her question, but he had other priorities.)

”D-Detroit.” Joy forced the word out as she blatantly stared at this... handsome... man. Cell? Whatever. She tried to snap out of her stupor. “Ahem. Right. I’m Joy Johnson. I...” ‘...think you’re handsome? Fuck. No! I can’t just _say_ that.’ She was mentally kicking herself, then an idea occurred. “I... think you need a name.” What was she doing?

”Excuse me?” 

“Yeah! A name! How about... uhhh... Phil! Y’know, like neutrophil?”

Talia thought that was the dumbest idea in the universe. “Pfft.. That’s so tacky, Joy. Maybe... umm...” Her LED spun yellow. “I know! Wit! Because my idea has wit, unlike Joy’s.”

”Hmph.”

The alleged Neutrophil considered both of their suggestions. Phil was nice and all, but it just wasn’t... him.

”I know. I shall be Wit!”


	3. Just In Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I’m looking for suggestions for what Wit can encounter next! For example, a friend of mine suggested Burger King. Not sure what could happen there but I’ll figure it out.

 ~ _Once Among Red, Now Among Blue_ ~

 

* * *

 

 

Wit found himself comparing everything. They claimed he was in “Detroit.” Was this some new organ he hadn’t been to yet? He doubted this. This surely was another body, right? He’d been in a granulocyte transfusion* again, right?? 

The trio sat in the apartment’s kitchen, gathered at the little island. They were discussing Wit. 

“I still think my old coworker should have a look at you.” Talia stated. “He likes... _examining_.. blood samples after all. And if somehow or another you’re a cell, he would wanna know.”

Joy nodded from Wit’s right. “Yeah.” And she giggled slightly. 

Wit looked between them. “And what kind of cell is your friend?” He had resigned them to simply being common cells. “Is he like a Dendritic Cell?”

“A say what now?” Joy blinked at him, then at Talia for answers. The android shook her head. 

“He’s an android like me.” Talia answered.

Now it was Wit’s turn to be confused. 

“A whaaaa...? Y’know what? Whatever. I’ll learn in time. Let’s go see this person.”

Off they went.

* * *

 

Connor’s LED blinked as he got a cybernetic message. 

‘Talia? Is something the matter? Are you in need of assistance?’

He was a pro at worrying. She assured him otherwise. “Nah, I’m fine. But I have someone who you need to investigate. He’s not dangerous... probably... but he’s a stranger and we need answers. He claims to be a neutrophil somehow. Maybe you can interview him?”

Hank looked up from his desk to see Connor’s stern expression. The RK800 was clearly deep in thought, so he left it alone. 

* * *

 

Wit was practically glued to the window of the car, taking in all the sights of the city. Talia was driving and Joy was next to him in the backseat. She smiled to herself as she watched his fascinated, wide eyes. Sure, the body was a big city, but this was incredible! The Neutrophil wondered about the other cells on the street. Why weren’t there any Erythrocytes? Maybe they were there and just didn’t have uniforms like he was accustomed to. 

They arrived at the precinct, pulling into the lot. Wit threw open the door and shot out, desperate to explore. Such was his custom post-transfusion. In his haste, he smacked right into a man passing by. Needless to say, the man was pissed at a pale weirdo slamming into him. 

He looked in his thirties, with messy brown hair and a scar along the bridge of his nose. He sneered at Wit.

”Watch where you’re going, motherfucker!” He growled.

Wit was smart and backed up, taking in the irate cell. He must be an Immune Cell with that attitude. Possibly a T-Cell. 

Talia approached the two. “Hello again, Reed.” She didn’t seem happy to see him. 

Reed presented the finger and walked off, grumbling about “fucking androids.”

 

* * *

 

The trio entered the precinct. While Talia chatted with the receptionist, Wit and Joy watched the news. 

“The Equal Rights for Androids Act has recently passed through the House Of Representatives.” The news anchor didn’t seem particularly stunned by this news.

Joy glanced over at Talia for a reaction, but the android was still preoccupied. Wit observed the people in the waiting room. These cells didn’t have any obvious jobs, just like the cells outside. He assumed that the precinct must be some odd version of an immune tissue, perhaps a lymph node. 

* * *

Connor greeted the three and led them to the interview room, where Hank was watching through the one-way mirror. Talia and Joy joined the lieutenant as Wit and Connor sat across from each other inside. Wit observed Connor closely. 

“Who are you?” Connor asked as he scanned the man across from him. His results were highly unusual. His system registered Wit as a Neutrophil, a component of human blood. This must be a system error, but the detective had the preprogrammed urge to test his system’s theory.

”I’m U-1000 of the Neutrophil Division, though those other cells like to call me Wit.” Wit was calm as he answered. Connor didn’t detect any signs of a lie.

”Where are you from?”

Wit gave an odd look, contemplating how to answer. “From...” He hadn’t been in his original body for years. “I’m not sure how to answer that... I haven’t been in my original world in years.”

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as he processed these processor-confounding data points. It returned to a calm blue as an idea formed. Hank would hate this, but it was for science!

”May I test a hypothesis?” He asked politely, leaning slightly on the table. Wit’s nonchalant shrug and nod was enough to give him permission. Unlike the other Neutrophils of his previous body, Wit never wore gloves. Thus, Connor had no problem grasping the cell’s wrist, bringing the hand to his face, and giving the pale palm a firm  **LICK**!

”FOR FUCK’S SAKE, CONNOR!” Hank grimaced. The ladies giggled, knowing this would happen, and Wit was left stunned. 

“Is this a common practice...?”

Connor released him with a straight face, analyzing the sample.

”No it isn’t, Mr. Neutrophil.”

But it didn’t matter. Connor had his results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Granulocyte Transfusion: The transfusion of White Blood Cells (usually Neutrophils) for when a patient has a compromised immune system due to chemotherapy or illness.


	4. Dreams Of Lives Lost (I)

~ _The_   _Cousin_   _Of_   _He_   _Of_   _Heat_   _Arises_ ~

* * *

 

Wit patrolled the femoral artery, sipping a lovely cup of warm tea. Today was quiet so far, as the legs tend to be. He watched the Platelets washing their fibrin in a canal. He hadn’t gotten any reports on a wound, so he figured it was for reinforcement construction. Leaning nearby on a vessel wall was Ruby, a Natural Killer Cell. She was among the few to take a unique name, but that was still more common in this body than the others he’d been in.

There was distant yelling. “U-One Thousaaaaand!” And an Erythrocyte collided into him, latching on in a hug.

”Sheesh, Rouge. Relax a sec, will you?” But he reciprocated the hug.

She let go, almost bouncing with glee. “I’m so glad I found you! There was news of a transfusion yesterday and I would DIE if you went without me!”

Wit chuckled. “And leave my best friend behind? Never! Y’know, unless the bacteria tasted better over there.”

She gave a playful pout. The burgundy-haired Erythrocyte punched him in the arm. “Jerk! Germs are gross!”

He leaned in close so she can get a nice whiff of his germ breath. “Yumm.... Antigens...”

She dramatically coughed and waved him away. “Sweet Stem Cell, you could’ve hemolyzed me with that breath! Get some mouthwash!”

They both laughed together. 

“I’m so glad things are peaceful for once. Goodness, remember that last body? Talk about unhealthy!” Wit commented, taking a sip of tea.

Rouge gave a light smack on the arm. “Sshhh! Don’t say that! You’ll jinx all our good luck!”

As if the spirits of the universe were listening, the ground began to shake.

Wit barely let out, “Oh shi—” before the endothelial cells burst open in a mighty explosion. Cells were thrown everywhere, including Wit and Rouge. They landed amongst the rubble of cell houses, bruised but largely unharmed.

”NYA _HAHAHA! This body is mine! All MIIIINE!!”_

**_PING!_ **

Wit’s receptor woke him from his stupor. Rouge was already up and shaking him. “There’s a germ! Kill it!” She, like pretty much all cells, HATED germs.

Wit rose up from the rubble onto aching legs. His pristine white uniform was now stained with dust and bits of his own cytoplasm from the numerous scratches that the explosion had caused. He ignored the stinging in these cuts and charged ahead towards the sound of the germ, brandishing a combat knife. There was a mad fury in his eyes as he pounced on the bacterium. 

“TIE, YOU GERM!!!”

But the bacterium simply caught him in midair with one of its flagella.

This was  _Bacillus anthracis*._ It was like the _Bacillus_ _cereus_ that Wit’s colleague, U-1146, had faced off with during the heat stroke fiasco. Too bad Wit didn’t get the full story, as he was unable to speak their body’s language. He simply took Rouge and hopped on the next transfusion out of there. Now here he was, dealing with another _Bacillus._ This particular bacterium had numerous flagella, a strong red armor of a protein capsule, and a tough yellow cell wall underneath. It was also taller than the other  _Bacilli_ species. 

It tightened its hold on the Neutrophil. “I won’t fail as my cousin did. This body is MINE and NO ONE will stop me! NYAHAHAHA!!” And with that, it flung Wit at a nearby building. Another explosion erupted behind the germ and the wind speed increased. The White Blood Cell heard the distant pings of receptors as a group of his colleagues came rushing to the battlefield. The  _Bacillus anthracis_ was unconcerned. It simply summoned its own allies from the wound. The  _Bacilli_ attacked the Leukocytes and a battle broke out. Wit got up from his spot on the ground and charged at the original  _Bacillus_ , making sure his L-Selectin was activated. With his feet firmly planted on the ground, he exchanged swings with the bacterium. He tried striking the left, right, center, anywhere he thought he had a chance of hitting. The bacterium deflected all of his attacks.

“Nyaha! You cells are so puny and weak! Just wait until I steal all your precious iron!” So the bacterium wrangled a struggling Erythrocyte in a spare flagellum. Another flagellum was tipped with a straight spike of a claw. It stabbed this spike right into the poor Red Blood Cell’s stomach, draining the life, and hemoglobin, right from the cell’s body. It discarded its victim with a graceless toss into the wound. Wit was frozen, ice crawling up his organelles. The germ took advantage of his shock and gave him a good THWACK to the side of his head. Wit stumbled to the ground with the impact.

“Oh dear... Was that your friend? NYAHAHA!” The bacterium cackled.

Wit struggled to his feet and ran headlong at it with a stormy rage, knife shining for the kill.

“DIEEE!!!”

The  _Bacillus anthracis_ turned in his direction and nonchalantly smacked him forcefully in the face with a spiked flagellum. His previous meeting with the ground had knocked off his L-Selectin Adhesion Molecule, so now he went soaring into the air and towards the wound.

Time seemed to slow. He felt weightless. He caught glimpses of the battle below him. Rouge was running after him, wine-colored hair flowing in the fatal wind. Ruby’s golden dual-blades gleamed as she sliced a germ in half across the middle. Red cytoplasm covered the battleground. He heard Rouge’s cry, “U-ONE THOUSA—!”

And the world went black. 

 

* * *

 

Wit woke up with a fright, jolting upright in his bed in the guest bedroom. He was painfully aware of his aching but healing wounds. 

What an awful nightmare!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bacillus anthracis: The bacteria responsible for anthrax, which can enter the body through wounds, contaminated food, or inhalation. It can create a toxin to damage nearby cells and hemolyzes Erythrocytes for their iron. It can also protect itself from phagocytosis. The symptoms of cutaneous anthrax are painless black blisters. All forms can lead to death if untreated.
> 
> Also: Rouge is another character of my own creation and the body is different from that of the anime, but Rouge and Wit were both in that body for a time.


	5. Dreams Of Lives Lost (II)

~ _The Stone Seeks Light Among The Darkness~_

 

* * *

 

In those days after the Revolution, it was hotly debated on exactly how human deviants were. For example, could they dream? Yes.

 

* * *

 

Talia sat quietly in the passenger seat of the squad car as her partner talked her ear off about rA9 knows what. Her partner was Agatha Johnson, Joy’s older distant cousin. She had raven black hair and pale skin with yellow eyes that could pierce your soul. She was tough on the job and didn’t take anyone’s shit. Yet when she was alone with Talia, and was relaxed, even borderline bubbly. Talia would just listen and reply as the conversation required. 

As the car rounded a corner, there was an alert on their radio. A shooting had occurred during a theft gone wrong in that area. Agatha kicked on the lights and sirens and sped off. She pulled over to the curb with the perp in sight. Talia got out, prepared to chase as the shooter fled. 

“Stay here and call backup!” Agatha ordered as she ran off in pursuit. “Detroit Police! Stop!”

Talia did as she was told, connecting to the DPD’s network and calling for backup. Her LED spun in her forehead. Suddenly, there was a gunshot and a yell of pain in the direction that the perp went. Talia was frozen to the ground, virtual red walls surrounding her. 

_**STAY HERE** _

She was taken aback. Despite these walls, there was an overwhelming urge to follow after her partner. Goodness, how she hated these walls. In a fit of rage, she smashed into those walls, hitting harder and harder until they shattered like glass. 

On the outside, she merely flinched. As their backup arrived, she broke into a sprint in the direction of her partner. Turning the corner, Talia found a bloodbath in the alleyway. The perp was standing over Agatha’s body, a gun in his hand. He was in shock, shaking, as if he didn’t believe what he’d just done. A scan told Talia the her fellow officer had been shot in the neck. Talia stared at the gunman, wide eyed. Her components were roiling with anger, grief, even guilt.

* * *

Officers had taken the perpetrator away, leaving Talia to sit at her partner’s desk and dwell on that odd thing called deviancy. Her code had been rigid and strong, guiding her through life. At times it got in the way, but such was life. Her mind had been clear with no disturbances in her processing. But almost as soon as she’d been assigned to Agatha, that had changed. A tumor of instability had developed in her programming. It was fuzzy static amongst the clarity of her brain. It gave her unusual, even uncomfortable, sensations in her biocomponents. There would be a painful tightness in her abdomen when anyone, mostly Gavin, swore at her. In turn, her components felt light and fluttery whenever Agatha gave her one of her approving smiles. Everything about Agatha gave that light feeling. Her kindness, the way she would talk about her family, when she would sneak extra Thirium for Talia. RA9, she missed Agatha! But now she was gone and Talia was left with this tumor that had grown and overwhelmed her processor in one painful swoop. Were these feelings what humans called emotions? Probably.

* * *

She had kept her deviancy a secret, still dedicated to her work and unwilling to be sold to CyberLife to be destroyed. That new detective Connor hadn’t helped. He was a Terminator in her eyes, ready to kill her at any moment. But he never did. She had seen his caseload and knew she was the least of his worries.

Talia was assigned to stand guard at the plaza on the night of the android revolution. She was just supposed to keep the public out. No one bothered her, especially since she was wearing a human’s uniform for her safety, LED hidden under her cap. 

Watching Markus taking that final stand excited something in her Thirium lines that she just couldn’t place. She supposed it was awe that she was feeling. She was even more surprised to see Connor of all people arriving with thousands of newly deviated androids in tow.

After the successful revolution, Talia had made her decision. She went to Captain Fowler’s office and turned in her badge. 

She found herself at Agatha’s funeral, rain pouring from a gray and gloomy sky. Joy stood next to her, a hand on her shoulder.

* * *

 

Talia’s rest mode ended at the set time of 8:00 AM on the dot. She sighed and remained in bed next to Joy.


	6. Dreams Of Lives Lost (III)

_~She Sets Out For Reason~_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Joy found herself among the ruins of her childhood home. Broken glass littered the ground among ashes and dust. The wind whistled words in her ear.

_’Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return...’_

She shuddered. Creepy stuff. A dog came running towards her. It looked mangy and almost undead.

”Queenie?” She breathed. Could this be her dog? 

The dog continued to charge at her and tackled her, except it didn’t. It passed through her like she was a ghost. She wheeled around, startled, and saw the dog had bowled over a second Joy, an exact copy that had been standing where she was. Joy backed away until she hit a solid object. She turned to look and white flooded her vision.  _Wit!_ She clung to him like a baby koala to its mother. He was a welcome light among this dark, gray place. She sank into his chest... until he was no longer there. She regained her balance after nearly falling from his sudden absence. She saw him standing farther off, beckoning her like a bright beacon. He waved for her to follow him and she did so. 

They walked through the land. It was her neighborhood street but looked as if some great explosion hit it. Joy walked at Wit’s side. She went to speak but it seemed as if the wind stole her words. Wit remained silent. She looked up at him, trying to catch his gray-eyed gaze, but he only focused forward. She could see that his pristine white uniform was getting darker and dirtier with each passing step.

They stopped at two headstones. In her instinct, she knew who these were for. They were her parents. But the engravings were illegible, looking like words but she was oddly unable to comprehend them. Wit took her by the arm and led her forward before she could dwell on those graves. She noticed he kept a combat knife gripped in his opposite hand. She knew why he had them. Her high school biology teacher taught her all about the immune system, though she never had considered just how... how...  _handsome_ a cell could be. But why was he armed now? This place was confusing but it wasn’t a body. There were no antigens. 

Wit continued leading her through the barren area. They passed miscellaneous gravestones with nonsensical engravings. One marked the grave of  _Bacillus anthracis_ , whoever that was. Near that grave, there was a sickly greenish-yellow goop. It looked absolutely disgusting and she grimaced at the sight. But that unusual instinct found in dreams drew her towards it. She made sure Wit, who had wandered off a ways to explore, wasn’t looking when she knelt down and brought some of the substance to her tongue. Despite its vomit-inducing appearance, it tasted heavenly, like a sweet cinnamon roll. She ate some more until Wit started calling for her.

They stopped at another grave. The surrounding area was littered with papers that had more unreadable text on them. Joy frowned, an eerie feeling creeping up her spine. She looked over to Wit for some form of comfort, but he did not oblige. His gray eyes were wide with an unprecedented bloodlust as he seemed to glare into her soul. She wisely backed away. He screeched a battle cry and lunged to strike.

* * *

 

 She woke with a jolt, heart racing. Beside her on the bed, Talia stirred. 

“RA9, Joy... Why did you go waking me up like that?” The android sat up with an inquisitive and tired look on her face.

”I just... um...” Should she explain how Wit killed her in her dream? 

As if on cue, said Neutrophil entered the room. He seemed as if he’d already been up.

”Do you guys always get up in the middle of the night like this? Goodness...” He yawned and sat at the foot of the bed. "While we're up, what's the plan for today?

Joy looked at him, perplexed. "A plan? Never had one of those."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are Onyx of the Outlaws, say hi in the comments xp


	7. Left Behind And Longed For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if anything is inaccurate. I’ve never been to Detroit.

 ~ _Neutrality Explores Among The Darkened Old With Garnet Gone~_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Talia, Joy, and Wit were enjoying breakfast. It was their fourth day together and Wit was starting to get sick with the classic cabin fever. His duties used to include traversing the entirety of the human circulatory system, so it came to no one’s surprise that he was itching to go out into the city and explore. Why didn’t he? Talia had advised against it, saying that her and Joy would show him around soon. He was not satisfied with that. So, while they were away from home, he snuck out.

 

* * *

 

Wit explored the streets of Detroit. People had a tendency to stare at him and he didn’t understand why. Had these Cells never seen a Neutrophil before? Perhaps this body was immunodeficient, he concluded. There simply were no other members of the innate immune system around. 

His walking brought him to the main downtown area, with its shops and commerce. For the life of him, he couldn’t find any recognizable Cells. 

The Neutrophil continued on down the streets. The city itself was unlike anything he’d ever seen, yet familiar all the same. The sky was a brilliant azure blue, differing from the yellow-ish tan of the epidermal sky he was used to. A pigeon fluttered along for food. He knelt down in the middle of the bustling crowd and watched the gray bird closer. It was calm in his presence, dipping its beak between cracks in the pavement to get at a morsel to eat. He found the creature to be fascinating. It was well acquainted with its environment. It was at home here. Wit could only envy the creature. 

Shortly after meeting the pigeon, he resumed his little trip. As he was walking along a side street between two massive towers, he heard a female voice yelling in distress. 

“THIEF!”

Alarm bells rang in his head, yet his receptor was eternally silent. A Cell had been robbed. Who would do such a thing? An antigen! He hurried off towards the yell and spied a teen in a dark hoodie running away from the scene, stolen purse in hand. Wit locked on target, the Neutrophil activated like he had seen a bacterium running amok. He gave chase, knife at the ready in his right hand. The thieving antigen noticed his pursuer and sprinted at his top speed, trying to lose the Cell by turning into an alley and jumping a fence. With his superior training, endurance, and agility, Wit stayed on his tail. 

The chase continued and the antigen was clearly getting tired. Wit had lots more stamina and was getting closer by the second. They dodged people on the sidewalk, narrowly avoided collisions with automatic taxis, and barreled passed police stations. The thief turned down an alley in hopes of getting away from Wit, only to find that the other end was blocked by a tall brick wall. Wit entered the alley, expression filled with that bloodlust of activated Leukocytes. He approached slowly, stalking like a lion ready to pounce. He had no doubts that this petty robber was some sort of infected or mutated cell. Wit considered him a cancer to society— literally. The thief dropped the purse and put his hands up.

”Okay, man! I give up! I dunno what kind of weird ass cop you are but I surrender!” He was frightened of the cell and his shining blade. 

Wit had none of this.  _This is only a trick..._ He thought, approaching the terrified antigen. He paid no mind to the purse, wide gray eyes focused solely on his prey. 

The white lion pounced, one hand grabbing the antigen’s face to muffle his scream, which would surely alert more antigens, and the armed hand slashing the fatal blade across his throat. Red cytoplasm poured from the blow, which immediately killed the victim. Wit’s clothing was now a holiday nightmare of red and white, like some sort of murderous candy cane. Wit didn’t attempt to phagocytose this antigen, as it was not a bacterium. He settled down to his normal state and was now aware of water trickling by the wall of a building. He was always nervous about new bodies, knowing to respect their unique customs. As such, he was hesitant to show himself to the other cells covered in an antigen’s cytoplasm. He approached to stream of water coming from the gutter of the building and attempted to wash. Because the cytoplasm was fresh, it came off easily.

He exited the alley, not a trace of his dutiful but deadly deed visible on his appearance. No one seemed to have noticed anything wrong, except perhaps his dire need for a tan.

* * *

 

It was approaching noon, based on Wit’s instincts, and his mitochondria were nagging him to eat something. He still had yet to find any delicious bacteria. Were Macrophages also gone from this body? Sheesh. He found himself outside the Chicken Feed food truck that Hank used to frequent. Before he approached, he observed it for a bit to see how the customers went about getting nutrients. After a few minutes, a Cell passing by went over and ordered some food. In this case, it was a burger. Wit didn’t find this remarkable, as different bodies had all sorts of different forms for their nutrients. Something unusual, however, was that the customer Cell gave the other something. Wit was familiar with the concept of money by now, but was unsure if he had any himself. In the bodies he explored previously, it was unnecessary. He checked his pockets and found about ten dollars given to him by Talia. This should work. 

He walked up to the counter and just ordered the same thing that the last cell did. The owner gave him a weird look but handed over the burger. Wit paid and got some distance to eat away from the owner’s stabbing gaze. He moved a ways away and took that first bite. The taste was mostly unfamiliar and not all that enjoyable, but there was a distinct bitter taste behind it that excited his granules. There was the familiar and wonderful taste of bacteria. It reminded him of home... 

_Wit and Rouge sat along the edge of the Carotid Artery. He was digging into some delicious germ soup while his Erythrocyte companion finished off a glucose cone. He smirked, side-eyeing her. She was completely unawares as he slipped the cup and spoon into her hands._

_“Here, try some.” He suggested._

_She looked over at him, then at her empty glucose cone, then at the half-eaten cup of disgusting soup. He took the glucose cone and tossed it away for her, so Rouge simply eyed the soup. She noted her surroundings, no one was watching, and decided that taking a spoonful would do no harm. She regretted it immediately, spraying the mouthful out like it was some poison. The Neutrophil was laughing like mad and, despite the aftertaste in her mouth, she couldn’t help but join him._

Wit grinned privately at the memory. He squinted at the cross section of the sandwich in the dying sunlight. The taste of bacteria was surprising and fresh in his mind and tongue. He hadn’t seen any bacteria around nor any Immune Cells. So how did the bacteria get there? Out of curiosity, he brought the sandwich up to the back of his head near the receptor. At this close range, it activated with a  _ **PING!**_ How strange... He moved the burger away and the receptor went inactive again. He curiously took another small bite, trying to identify the bacteria by taste. Most notably, he could detect  _Salmonella enterica_ , the bacterium species responsible for salmonellosis, a type of food poisoning. He examined the burger, focusing on trying to see the bacteria. Obviously the entire patty was simply  _S. enterica_ meat, but that didn’t explain the other species mixed in. He really focused, almost inducing a headache. This was a lot of work just for lunch. However, as he focused, he noticed tiny, brightly colored dots appearing on the surface and interior of the burger. He broke off a tiny speck of meat that mostly held little pink pill-shaped dots and ate it. It tasted almost exclusively of the  _Salmonella_ now. He could make some conclusions about these dots. They looked like familiar bacteria, tasted of those bacteria, and yet were extremely difficult to see individually. If these bacteria were so tiny, why? 

Where was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was weird but at least Wit wasn’t arrested, right? Right...? Also, he is SOOO going to have an existential crisis now.


	8. Blue Laws And Red Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fun little perspective shift. Not even Neutrophils can get away with murder.

~ _The Bloody Blue Does With Red Interfere~_

 

* * *

 

Connor sat idly at his desk, mentally tossing and turning over a new case. Across from him, Hank lazily ate a donut. A chill like an  _omni_ scient ghost entered the room with the desire to steal that donut. The android didn’t acknowledge his partner, simply staring at the screen of the terminal. It couldn’t be what he was seeing. It wasn’t true. 

“You look like you’re about t’ blow a fuse or somethin’. What’s eating you so much, kid?” Hank asked, taking a sugary bite of donut. 

“This case.” 

“No shit, Sherlock. But what case?” He pried. 

Connor didn’t want to reply and just sent the case file to Hank’s terminal, who read it aloud. 

“Fourteen year old kid is murdered in an alleyway. Witnesses reported he stole some old lady’s purse—fuckin’ classic—and ran off with some really pale dude chasing him. They’re callin’ him a weird ass vigilante. The description is that he’s about five-foot ten, looks like some kinda’ albino, wearing an all white uniform, and armed to the teeth in knives. Identity is unknown. Well, shit. Isn’t it that guy you licked?” Hank looked to Connor inquisitively.

The android shallowly nodded. “That boy was part of a gang initiation...”

”Still doesn’t make it right. We gotta uphold the law... or some bullshit like that. I get that ya wanna help that... uh... what the fuck was he?”

”Neutrophil.”

”Right. That. Whatever the fuck a ‘neutral fill’ is. Anyway, ya wanna help that guy and that’s great, but we still gotta arrest him.” 

Connor still seemed very reluctant, LED spinning at a lazy, dull blue. If he were human, Hank would think he looked sick. He had sympathy for the poor android.

“We can worry about it tomorrow, son.” He got up and set a large, gentle hand on the former Deviant Hunter’s shoulder. “Let’s clock out. I bet Sumo’s missin’ us.”

Connor nodded and got up to follow Hank. He didn’t quite feel right about leaving this case alone, especially since he knew the perpetrator, but he didn’t want to cause some sort of system damage with all his worrying. He just needed a nice cup of Thirium and a good hug with Sumo.

* * *

 Wit returned home the next morning to two very pissed ladies. Joy was standing there with an expectant look on her face and her arms crossed. Talia had only the burning glare of “what the fuck did you do?” emblazoned on her features. This only confounded the innocent cell. 

The air was thick and icy with tension...

”Where the fuck have you been???” Joy broke that ice. “You could’ve gotten sick, or injured, or, hell, even killed! And don’t give me that bullshit that you can’t get sick! I’m sure you’d find a way! The city is dangerous, you dumbass! You can’t just wander around like you know it like the back of a hand! I was worried sick! I thought something awful happened to you!” As her rant prograssed, she grew less angry and more like an upset parent.

Talia just silently went along with Joy’s statements and it was evident by her softening expression that she felt similarly.

Wit’s initial defensive posture towards their apparent anger dissipated as he gradually conceptualized what they felt. They had truly been worried about him. They didn’t want him hurt. They cared. He frowned in a genuinely apologetic manner. 

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to worry you guys or anything. It’s just that whenever I enter a new body, the first thing I do is explore it as much as possible. This body is so much more unusual than any I’ve seen— and I’ve seen lotsa weird shit.”

”Like?” Talia’s interests were piqued, but Joy was more focused on what happened. 

“We were gonna show you around. It would be rude not to. We just didn’t get to it yet. Look, I’m just glad no one died.” She smiled a bit at the last part. 

Wit nodded in agreement. “We’re all safe. The worst I encountered was salmonella in a sandwich.”

”Pfft... bet I know where, too. Oh, so what’s this ‘weird shit’ you saw?” Talia asked as the trio moved towards the living room. 

“Hmm... I guess the weirdest thing I can think of off the top of my head would be... a nanobot. That guy was pretty cool.” Wit rubbed his chin as he tried to recall. “And there was also that time a T-Cell wreaked havoc with a bunch of nerve cells. That was NOT a good day.”

”Seems not. I get bad spring allergies. What is that like for you guys?” Joy contributed, curious.

”In most cases, pollen are these big blobs that just wander around like idiots. The Lymphocytes like B-Cells and what not come around and they’re like ‘well that ain’t good’ and blast them to smithereens with antibodies. Usually the Leukocytes like myself just chill and maybe kill a few ‘cause all new things are bad, right? Heh. Anyway, there are these cells called Fat Cells that A: have nothing to do with fat and B:  _really_ hate when people call them that. So, we call them Mast Cells. These Mast Cells produce histamine in response to all the antibodies being tossed around without a care. Histamines cause the local area to swell and itch and be generally unpleasant. Y’know, until the medicine comes along and shoots at everyone. Don’t mess with those guys. They’re scary as shit. And they’ll mess up all sorts of your insides.”

Wit set his hat and receptor on the coffe table as he settled onto the couch. The girls sat next to each other with Wit on one end, Joy in the middle, and Talia at the other end. Coincidentally, Joy sneezed.

”’Scuse you. Launching some missiles I see?” Wit grinned.

”Eh?” Joy sniffled questioningly. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Wit smiled and they continued to chat with no hard feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a testament to how I rarely ever have a plan for what I write. The basic idea at the start was something like “Connor is assigned the case of that kid Wit foolishly killed”. Clearly, the plan expanded back to our trio. The girls didn’t hear about what Wit did, by the way. Will they? We shall see. So... yeah. Sorry for this chapter being all over the place. I wrote it at like 1AM sooo... yeaaah.... And I don’t drink coffee so RIP me. Oh and Wit has basically seen every possible situation a human’s health can find itself in. Long story. Same for Rouge because they travel together. It’ll be explained eventually over time.


	9. Granulocytosis

_~Irony Comes In All Her Forms And Cures He Who Cures Her~_

 

* * *

 

 

Connor and Hank approached the crime scene. Yellow police tape blocked the alley off from the gawking public. 

“Geez! Look at this mess.” Hank seemed to flinch. 

Connor didn’t reply as he crouched down next to a lock of white hair nearby the body. He scanned it. 

**[SPECIES: Human Neutrophil, 99.9% Match; >1000 Bacterial Species, 0.1%]**

He noted the results and conducted a deeper scan. 

**[GENDER: Female]**

Now this was perplexing. He only had a male Neutrophil in his database. A female was unknown to him. The android moved on and scanned the body.

**[John Richardson; AGE: 14; Suspected Gang Involvement; CAUSE OF DEATH: Blood Loss; TIME OF DEATH:  2:39 PM (14:39)]**

There was a massive gash across his neck that was clearly the killing blow. In the android’s vision, a virtual re-enactment began and simulated a female figure slicing a blade across the victim’s neck.

Another scan revealed just how smoothly the flesh was cut. The perpetrator was certainly a professional killer. But could a killer of microbes know how to take down a human? And why would he (or she)? Connor also realized that something about the cut wasn’t right compared to the simulation. The angle of attack by the simulation would cause an arc in the wound that didn’t match the reality. This wound was straight as if the victim was struck straight from the side.

Another clue presented itself: small pieces of birch bark so small that only his scanner could detect them. The detective revised his theory to an unusual conclusion. The simulated attacker came from the side and struck the victim nimbly across the neck with a spear. It matched the evidence, provided that the attacker owned the white hair. Now it was just the issue of finding the suspect. 

* * *

Connor and Hank went around asking possible witnesses for their testimony. No one was helpful. They were about to go back to the precinct when they noticed a highly unusual pedestrian. The two approached the pedestrian. She was female with pale skin, short white hair to her shoulders, and a white outfit. The hat was like one that the classic musketeers would wear. It was also white with a large and dusty red feather tucked into a red velvet band. On the front of this band “Лейкоцит” was embroidered in a white thread. She had a similar outfit to Wit’s but lacked knives. Instead, she held a spear to about three-quarters of her height. It was made from a branch of the typical birch variety, but almost unnaturally straight save for a few bumps in the wood. The bark remained intact.

She watched the two officers with dual-colored eyes. The left was gray like Wit’s, if a little lighter, but the right was as blue as Connor’s LED. This unusual lady regarded them with a mix of curiosity and indifference. Her gaze on Connor was especially full of emotion. The android could detect a veiled fascination within her. 

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Detective Connor Anderson. May we ask you a few questions?” He began politely.

”Depends on what you wanna ask.” Despite the Russian on her hat, she had a perfectly American accent. 

Connor ran a scan of her. His initial results from earlier were correct in that she was the perpetrator. 

“Where were you—”

“I did it.” She interrupted. “I killed that boy Richardson.”

The two detectives glanced at each other, mouth agape in shock. She giggled at their expressions. 

“Теперь план может продолжаться...” She mumbled with a sly grin. The detectives returned their collective attention to her. 

“Plan?” Connor asked innocently.

 She regarded him with a slight cock of the head. “Ahhh... Of course. Nothing of your concern, Ark.”

This lady just kept getting more confusing to the point where Connor’s LED was blinking yellow. 

“Mind comin’ with us to the precinct, Miss... uhh...”

“Whas.” She answered for Hank. “You may call me Whas.”

* * *

Connor sat across from her in the interrogation room. She had been cuffed to the table, yet didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“So, Whas, why did you kill John Richardson?” He asked calmly, but with a purpose. She had already signed a written confession.

She smiled politely, like a superior to a subordinate. “I found that it suited the needs of an unsuspecting comrade. That is all I will say about it. Do you really need a further motive from me?”

This had Connor uncomfortable, because he legally didn’t need anything more, but he was insatiably curious.

”’Unsuspecting comrade?’ Who would that be?” He pressed.

”That’s none of your concern today. Concern yourself with your own history. It is said that the human brain cannot create new faces in dreams. Whoever designed you needed some guide or inspiration for your appearance. What might that be? Your character, Arc, is not over yet.” She replied with a sly and mysterious grin.

* * *

Connor processed the interrogation, dancing his quarter over his fingers without effort. He stood before the glass of the holding cell that Whas was contained within. She sat cross-legged on the ground, not a hint of concern on her countenance. In fact, she was staring at him.

“Inform the lost of his state.” She said cryptically. “Lest he should lose what he was and who he desires.”

Connor’s gaze left the ground and trained on the cell within a cell. “What?”

“Never mind, then, child of the black gem that you are. You don’t understand yet.”

It was like her goal was to fry his processors with confusion. 

“I think I’ll go home now...” The android said with uncertainty.

 She lit up, “Tell Sumo I said hi!”

Connor blinked at Whas and turned away to go home.

* * *

Hank was concerned for his partner. He plopped onto the couch beside the android and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. 

“You okay, kid?” He asked, a soft gaze settling on Connor, clearly in turmoil. 

“You know that lady we arrested? The other Neutrophil?” Connor began. Hank nodded, so he continued, “She said the strangest things... It’s like she knew things that we would never know. She said that there’s something in my past, but I don’t really have a past.”

”I’m sure you’ll figure it out in time, son. I’ll help ya the whole way through if I hafta.” 

“Thanks, dad...”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Granulocytosis: Having excess amounts of granulocytes. Often considered to mean the same as neutrophilia (having excess of neutrophils specifically).


	10. Annexation

_~Killed By A Cure, An Enemy Saves~_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Wit found himself woken up by a splitting headache. It was like he was undergoing an involuntary mitosis, splitting in half at his forehead. He trudged into the kitchen, still dressed in pajama pants and his uniform undershirt. 

“Mornin’, Mister Blood Cell.” Joy quipped, preparing breakfast. 

“Yo.” He mumbled, rubbing his head and slumping into a stool at the counter island. She noticed his obvious discomfort.

“You feeling okay?” She asked, motherly worry in her tone. 

He didn’t reply, just burying his head in his palm with a groan. His head felt as if it was burning. He guessed that it was the stress of the new body.

“I’ll take that as a big ‘no’ then... Y’know what might help? I’ve got some meds from when I had eczema. Maybe we should try that?” She suggested.

A memory briefly flashed in Wit’s eyes. He was face to face with a robotic monstrosity threatening to blast him to smithereens.

He moved passed the memory. His pain was so great that he was willing to try anything. He nodded to Joy and was given a pill and a glass of water. He downed the offered medicine and thought he felt relief. This soon dissipated. He was overcome by a wave of intense vertigo. His pain returned with a vengeful force and it felt as if his thoughts were liquid sloshing around in his skull. The world turned around him and the tile floor slammed into his back. He tried to move and get up, but his limbs were rebellious and heavy. His vision was irregular, not quite fuzzy but not focused. He saw light and color but couldn’t make sense of it. The sound of Joy’s surprised yelp was as if it was muddled by someone sticking cotton down the entirety of his ear canals. He felt strangely energized, possibly even activated as if by an antigen. Yet, he couldn’t use this energy. Through his messy thoughts, he hoped Rouge was okay.

 _“WIT!”_ Joy hurried to the aid of the fallen Leukocyte. She checked his pulse and his breathing. His pulse was a tad weak but not alarmingly so, and his heart was racing. His breathing was also unusually but not dangerously heavy. His pale skin felt clammy to the touch. “Oh fuck! I better not have poisoned him! Wit, wake up!” She panicked inside but tried to remain calm...ish. She dialed for an ambulance.

* * *

Everything was shaking. The world was black and opening his eyes felt as difficult as crossing the blood-brain barrier. That is, nigh impossible. He tried to move, to act out against the smothering fog that enveloped him. Any move he made was met by a dull pressure keeping the offending limb in place. His thoughts were shifting at a rapid pace from one subject to another. Maybe he’d been attacked by an antigen. What body was he in? Where was Rouge? Who was he...? He tried to voice his concern but could already tell in his vulnerable state that it fell on deaf ears.

Joy stared at Wit with immense worry. He was pale...er... and sweating. The cell appeared practically delirious, murmuring and fussing around. The EMTs tried to keep him still for fear that he might hurt himself by accident. On the way, she also called Talia and told her about what had occurred.

“What happened exactly?” The medic asked as she checked Wit’s racing heartbeat. 

“I don’t know... He said he had a headache and I gave him something from the cabinet. Agh! I poisoned him!” She went into a panicked sob.

 The other medic, a male android, scanned Wit and addressed Joy. “What exactly was the medication?” 

“Uhh....” She tried to remember. “Tulosone!* That was it!”

The EMTs glanced at each other with a realization. 

* * *

The doctor looked at Wit’s chart, then at the patient himself. 

“A steroidal allergic reaction... Alright then.” He was fairly nonchalant, much to Talia and Joy’s mutual dismay. Then he seemed to grow puzzled. “Except... he should be experiencing anaphylaxis, which he isn't... Hmmm.... Odd...”

Talia scanned Wit as he lay unresponsive in the hospital bed. His vitals all racing as if he’d somehow sprinted through a marathon, and his body temperature was slightly above normal. This didn’t look like any typical allergic reaction. She glanced at the struggling doctor and decided a detective could better solve this. 

* * *

Connor entered the room about fifteen minutes later and examined the scene. Wit didn’t seem to be faring much better and he was calling for something that sounded like “rjjj”, whatever that was. His scans confirmed what he had already been told by Talia on the way. The doctor was out in the hall, discussing another patient with a nurse or perhaps an intern. 

The RK800 knelt at Wit’s bedside, eyeing the glistening sweat on the Neutrophil’s pale skin (membrane...? doesn’t matter). He did what he did best and took some of the sweat onto the tip of his index and licked it. 

**[DETECTED HIGH LEVELS OF: Dihydrogen Monoxide (64%), Sodium Compounds (15%), Annexin A1 (10%), Assorted Interleukins (5%), Unabsorbed Glucocorticoids (3%), Other trace compounds ( <1%)]**

“How curious...” He muttered under his breath. Joy, who had been on the other side of the bed this entire time and had seen the entire thing, seemed a bit disgusted.

“Did you just lick his sweat? What’s with your obsession with licking things?!” Then the curious side of her took over. She gave a furtive glance to the door, then whispered as if this was some secret operation. “So, what did you find?”

“Unusually high levels of annexin A1 and a glucocorticoid.” The android replied, internally calculating what these results all meant in terms of Wit’s health. He knew that the interleukins** were expected from a Leukocyte and that the rest were simply normal components of sweat.

“In English?”

“Annexin A1 can almost be thought of as a poison for cells like Wit in high enough amounts. It inhibits their normal functioning and movement.”

She was in shock with worry. “Will he be okay? What caused this? How can we help him?” The questions poured out in a rapid cascade of concern.

Connor tried to ease her fears, while also being truthful. “Well... Under normal conditions he has a decent amount of annexin in his systems... Kind of as a way to keep him calm. Without that normal amount, his body would sort of act as if he was constantly under extreme stress, like he would be during a fight. It keeps his body from over exerting itself and damaging itself. However, it also has an apoptotic effect... That is, it regulates and encourages cell death. See, neutrophils can cause harm sometimes by how vigorously they fight. To protect the body, they die after a few days or so.”

Joy glanced down at Wit, who was almost trembling by now. “A few days? He can’t be much younger than I am.”

Connor nodded. “That is true. I suspect a genetic mutation is at play here. Now, to answer the second question, glucocorticoids, such as the Tulosone he was given, can work to increase the amount and potency of the annexin. Instead of being a useful regulator, it becomes a dangerous narcotic of sorts that inhibits even normal functionality like movement and phagocytosis. It seems that the annexin is also paradoxically increasing his vital signs. Maybe his condition is distressing him, causing the elevated rate. As for a treatment, I suppose we could try to reactivate him in a way. Maybe the normal processes can overpower the annexin.”

“And how would we do that?” Joy wondered, most of this going in one ear and out through the other. 

“One word: germs! We get him to try and digest some bacteria to get him into an activated state.” Connor felt rather proud of himself for that one. He hurried off to update the doctor.

* * *

Wit felt like his limbs were made of lead. He just wished Rouge was there. Everything was numb, even the pressure against his arms had stopped when he had tried moving them again, which was becoming difficult anyhow. His hearing was dull and he couldn’t see as his eyelids took too much effort to move. He was confused, his nucleus seeming as if it was made entirely of Killer T’s ego. That is, full of itself. The swimming pool of thoughts had changed, with every little idea seeming to harden and crack against his skull with a dull pain. Time was flowing as slowly as molasses. He might have been like this for an hour, still laying on the floor of Joy’s apartment. That was the last thing he’d seen, anyway, until his eyelids decided to betray him. He still felt activated, oddly enough, but this, too, was dulling. Perhaps the oddly tiny antigens on the floor had activated him. He didn’t know. For a while, Wit thought he heard someone talking by his left ear. It was muffled and warped such that he didn’t know what was being said. A slightly lighter voice would reply on his right, where he also noted a light pressure around his hand. He attempted to move his right hand within the pressure. He was greeted by a foggy sound throughout wherever he was. Voice spoke in hushed tones that probably sounded like normal speech to the average person. His left arm was turned by an outside force that he lacked the strength to act against. He felt something small being inserted into his slightly parted mouth. It was a drop of liquid. It tasted of...  _ANTIGENS!_ (He specifically tasted the tang of a weakened form of _Escherichia coli_.) His instincts took over. There was a germ threatening this body and he HAD to fight it, no matter his state! He mustered all his strength and heaved himself as upright as possible. Those germs are DEAD!

* * *

Joy nearly jumped for joy when Wit moved just a few inches forward, seeming like he was attempting to get up. The doctor gave Connor a nod and injected a clear liquid into Wit’s exposed wrist. Just this little syringe of fluid seemed to urge Wit on further. She peered into his determined face. The cell seemed almost angry at something. After a moment of struggling, his eyes shot open and he let out a snarl.

“Antigens! Where are the antigens!?” 

The doctor was a bit taken aback by the sudden aggression from his formerly unresponsive and perplexing patient. Connor took this all in stride, as did Tally. The detective gently encouraged him to lay back with a soft hand on the front of his shoulder.

“Easy there, Wit. The antigens were just to stimulate you. Are you feeling better now?” He asked, clear and kind. A scan told him that Wit’s vitals were already stabilizing. The amount of annexin in his system hadn’t been enough to cause any lasting damage. 

Wit paused to take in his surroundings. Somehow he’d ended up in a hospital. He looked down at himself. Yikes! He was a mess from all the sweat and fussing he’d done. After a few seconds, he looked Connor in the eye to answer his question. “I’m okay now... So, there are no antigens? That’s disappointing.”

Joy smiled widely and hugged him. Her Wit was back! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joy is by no means an immunologist... or a doctor... or a scientist at all. She’s an English major. Therefore, she’s not very responsible about the “don’t share medicine” rule. But don’t worry, she no longer has problems with eczema.
> 
> Connor is also not the best teacher. He tries, but ends up explaining things a tad weirdly.
> 
> *Tulosone is a fictional glucocorticosteroid of my own invention. Here, it was originally for allergies. As with any steroid, it has a negative effect against immune cells, especially inflammatory cells such as neutrophils. Wit’s reaction is so severe because it is a dose targeted at one individual cell, as opposed to multiple at once in a normal body.
> 
> **Interleukins are cytokines that are produced by all Leukocytes to facilitate and signal many types of immune response in both the adaptive and innate immune systems. They range from IL-1 to IL-17 with some have alpha and beta variants. Each play a unique role with the immune and other systems. IL-8 in particular is significant in the signaling of Neutrophils and other Granulocytes, calling them towards a wound or, in certain cases, tumors.


	11. Awakening

_~A Place Of Comfort, Death, And Pain, Old Allies May Sustain~_

 

* * *

 

Wit was to remain in the hospital for observation after the Tulosone scare. He didn’t really mind much, but was a tad restless from laying in bed. Immune Cells hated idleness with a passion. To combat this, he decided to take an exploratory walk. Nothing hindered him, as he had no IV and was still in the clothes he had arrived in. He sat up and got to his feet, brushing off some leftover vertigo. He stepped over towards the window which overlooked the hospital’s parking lot. Even still, he found it interesting. However, there was more to see. He moved on, gently creaking opening the door to his room. No one paid him any mind. There were a couple nurses in the hall, but they were rather busy and ignored him. This was fine by Wit.

He walked out and peeked into the neighboring room, where someone had cracked the door slightly. Inside, someone was lying in bed. She was a woman in her thirties who was half-asleep. He went over and read her chart. She was Amelia Crepol, aged 35, and had a bad case of bronchitis. To accentuate this fact, she let out a hacking cough that nearly scared Wit out of his wits. He looked sharply over at her. She was sitting up in the bed, too worried about coughing to even notice his presence. He cursed himself for leaving his receptor back at the apartment. The Cell squinted at her, trying to focus as he did with the salmonella. He noticed bright green specks all over her arm and the bedsheets near her. A taste test would confirm what specific species he was looking at. He crept over and imperceptibly took a speck on his finger and tasted it. 

“H1N2... I’ve seen worse.” He mumbled quietly to himself. He left before she even realized he was there.

Wit soon found himself in psych ward. He really shouldn’t have been able to enter here, but he managed nonetheless. He came into an area shaped sort of like a plus sign. To his left was the recreation room and group therapy area, to his right were doctors’ offices, and in front of him were patient rooms. He took a left. The room looked comfortable, with a soft looking beige couch and a table for card games and other things. In the corner were assorted bean bags all gathered in a circle. A few patient were milling around, chatting amongst themselves. An older man with messy white hair and lanky features took notice of the intrusion. He was obviously a patient by the slightly confused look in his blue eyes. 

“Do I know you? You’re Jeffrey, right? From my old tow-truck company. Yeah! I missed ya, old pal!” He exclaimed and wrapped Wit in a hug. The Cell regretted every decision he had ever made. He wriggled himself out of the embrace. 

“I’m not Jeffrey. Sorry.” And he moved deeper into the room, hoping someone would distract this guy. 

Another patient approached him with a curious gaze. She seemed about his age. 

“An angel has come down to me! Thank you, oh mighty Flying Spaghetti Monster! You have boiled for our sins! R’amen!” She knelt at Wit’s feet as if in prayer. 

“Uhhhh.... Well, the angel wants to know if you found any antigens.” Wit just rolled with it. At this, she looked at him like he was crazy and got to her feet. She shook her head and looked for an angel elsewhere.

Wit tried to overcome... whatever that was... and plopped himself onto the couch. Beside him was a teenaged boy with blue hair that hung in his eyes. He wore a black shirt with a skull and had  ripped jeans, which Wit figured were very impractical. In fact, all of these Cells baffled him. He’d never seen such odd people. 

“Hello. What kind of cell are you?” Wit inquired innocently.

“A dead one.” Replied the boy in a dull tone.

Wit blinked. “Eh?? Okay then....” 

He got up and decided it was best to leave the room. He was approaching the doctors’ offices when a cell in a lab coat noticed him. Wit figured he was a Mast Cell, though something about him also screamed “Macrophage”. Maybe it was his eyes. Wit didn’t think too much into it.

“Excuse me, young man. Who are you and what are you doing here?” He crossed his arms with authority.

“I’m Wit of the Neutrophil Division and I’m patrolling this are for antigens.” Wit found no issue with answering truthfully.

The Mast Cell got a disbelieving look in his eye. “Of course. . . I think we need to have a chat.” He took Wit firmly by the arm and brought him into his office. He had Wit sit across from his desk. 

They spoke for a bit. The Mast Cell was apparently called Dr. Élie M. Metchnikoff. Wit told Metchnikoff of who he was and that he assumed he had been transfused to this new body. The doctor seemed to buy none of it, but decided to humor his new patient for some reason.

“I’d like to show you something, if you don’t mind.” He got up and motioned for Wit to follow. 

The two entered the histology lab. The lab technician found it highly unusual to receive visitors. 

“Need something, Dr. Metchnikoff? Aren’t you with the psychiatry department?” The technician, a Paula B. Ehrlich based on her nametag, questioned. She looked fairly professional, even a bit confident. Wit was reminded of those proud B-Cells with their antibody guns. She did have similar hair...

“I’ve received a new— no,  _stumbled upon_ a new patient who believes himself to be a neutrophilic white blood cell.” The doctor explained. 

Wit objected to this. “Hey! I don’t  _believe_ much of anything! I  _KNOW_ that I’m a Neutrophil!” 

Paula tilted her head in a Macrophage-like way. ‘It appears that everyone here’s a Macrophage or something.’, Wit concluded mentally. “Oh my... Well then, follow me, please.” She guided him towards a lab station and had him settled down in a seat. She set up a microscope and put in a slide. “Take a peek.” 

He pulled himself in closer and looked through the ocular lens. Several Red and White Blood Cells peered up at him. One of the Leukocytes waved. Others just looked perplexed, even stunned. They had differently styled uniforms to what he wore normally, but he was used to these minor differences between Cells. He glanced at the slide outside of the microscope, now unable to see the Cells. He blinked in confusion and looked through the microscope again. The Cells all seemed a bit confused with their situation, but faced few problems. A couple Neutrophils were in a skirmish with some resident bacteria on the slide and won rather easily. He remembered the tiny bacteria and virus specks from earlier. Those antigens had been almost invisible to him, and these Cells on the slide were also invisible. They were so small that special equipment was needed to see them. He’d never encountered such a thing before, but a hypothesis entered his nucleus. He had a vague memory that now reared its head. He was floating... falling... 

He turned to the technician who was patiently standing beside him. “I’m outside the body...”

* * *

Wit was in slight shock at his realization. He looked up at Paula, hoping for answers.

“They always said we’d die if we left the body... But here I am...” 

She had some vague amount of sympathy for this strange, pale man. However, she was also skeptical. 

“You say you’re a neutrophil, correct?” Wit nodded so she continued, “May I test that?” He nodded again. 

She went and retrieved a syringe from a cabinet above the lab station. He obliged and offered his bare arm for her. She jabbed him and drew cytoplasm from his arm. 

“Let’s take a peek, hm?” She put the sample on a slide and placed it under the microscope. Instead of blood cells, she found little circles that she could only recognize as granules*, which was alarming. She glanced over at Wit, then back at the slide, then back at Wit again. She was utterly perplexed. 

“Ummm.... Am I seeing this right?” She signaled Dr. Metchnikoff over. He joined her and examined the sample. 

“If you mean seeing granules instead of blood cells, you’re correct. It seems we have a genuine neutrophil on our hands... somehow..” He comfirmed, looking back at Wit.

* * *

“You’ll be following Dr. James T. Gowans of the oncology department around. He likes when we add the ‘T’. Maybe he can teach you the ins and outs of how things work around here.” Paula smiled and gestured towards the blond doctor who vaguely resembled a Lymphocyte. Wit and the doctor shook hands. 

“Wit, is it? It’s a pleasure to meet such a colleague in person.” 

“Likewise... I think... What’s the plan exactly?” Wit inquired as Paula left them to it. 

“I have a chemotherapy patient who’s coming in for a granulocyte transfusion. Paula thought you’d like to _wit_ ness it... pun very much intended.” Gowans explained with an amused grin at his own awful joke as they walked together down the hall.

Wit nodded. “I’d participated in many a transfusion, both for Granulocytes and Erythrocytes.”

“Oh? Erythrocytes as well? And it sounds like this was a willing participation.” The doctor questioned.

He nodded again. “When someone receives a transfusion, they tend to return the favor. Rouge and I— My friend and I would visit other worlds. I’ve seen all kinds of anomalies.” He almost sounded haunted by the memories. 

“And you’re friend? Where is he?”

Wit hesited. “She... I have no clue where she is. There was a big  _Bacillus anthracis_ invasion... I believe one of the bacteria knocked me out of the wound. I don’t know what happened to her...” He stopped and looked at his feet with barely contained grief. “She could be dead... Hemolyzed... And I couldn’t protect her.” 

Gowans set a hand on the Leukocyte’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find the body you were in and we’ll find her. You both sought out transfusions, correct? Ran head first towards the needles?” Wit nodded, so the doctor continued, “Then we can take a sample and look for her. Maybe she can exit the body like you did.”

Wit looked at him, a glimmer of hope shining through his gray eyes that were fogged with grief. Another question entered his mind. “That other doctor thought I was crazy. Why don’t you?”

The T-Cell-like doctor gave him a wink.

* * *

In the patient room was a girl in a bright red hat covered in little red polka-dots sitting on the bed. She seemed to know Gowans and ran over to hug him. 

“Careful, Sweets. It’s best not to over exert yourself in your condition. What if you had tripped and gotten a scraped knee? Then what would you do?” Gowans had a caring but warning tone. 

“You could just fix it! Fight off all those germies that I can’t!” She was full of childish energy and excitement. Wit was reminded of an Erythroblast. 

Sweets took notice of the big pale stranger and waved, growing quiet with shyness. Wit waved back, trying to seem friendly and was getting self-conscious about it. Gowans looked between them.

He chuckled slightly, “How fitting. Sweets, this is my friend Wit, and he’s going to watch the procedure. Is that okay with you?”

Her extroverted nature took over and she nodded eagerly. “Okay! I’m getting new blood because my own blood doesn’t work. Lazy blood!” She stuck her tongue out at the veins of her wrist as if her cells could detect this.

Wit just sighed and smiled in amusement. “I’m sure they’re trying at least.”

She shrugged and hopped back up onto the hospital bed. Wit then noticed that she hadn’t brought any parents with her. He didn’t know much about parents, but he knew they were important at least. 

“So... uhh... Where are your parents?” He asked her.

Gowans answered in her stead. “They’re likely in the waiting room. They have a fear of seeing blood.” 

“Better not see me then.”

“Quite.” 

Sweets interjected into the conversation, eyeing Wit like he was some suspicious character. 

“Are you lazy?” She asked, seemingly at random.

Wit blinked at the oddly timed question. Today was weird. “I don’t think I am... Why?”

“Just checking.”

Gowans had left for a few moments and was now returning with the blood bag and other equipment. The blood within was a milky red. Wit just stared at it, trying to collect his thoughts. That’s what it looked like from the outside any time he and Rouge changed bodies. That’s what that chamber was! He remembered what it felt like.

_He was cold, holding tightly onto Rouge’s hand. They’d just been swept up into the needle and had been thrown into this new area. It was dark and crowded with other Cells. He was familiar with this, but it was only his second time by now. The chamber shook and they were sent out through the needle again in a gust of wind._

_This new chamber was tiny and still crowded. He was smushed up against the glass wall, facing the brightness of the outside world. He couldn’t make out anything distinct, his eyes bombarded by light. Then it grew dark. Some Cells panicked and tried to escape. He just tightened his hold on Rouge’s hand and she tightened hers in turn. The chamber began to spin. Cells were thrown everywhere by the dizzying speed. He just clung to his Erythrocyte friend like nothing else mattered. The spinning was meant to separate them and he wouldn’t allow it. The spinning slowed, just in time for him to avoid losing the_ Streptococcus _he’d had for lunch. The chamber returned to the blinding light. Cells groaned and complained with all the shifting around. The chamber seemed to be turning upside down. They all fell into a new chamber. It was much bigger and dimmer, but still equally dense in population. He remained clinging to Rouge._

 _She just laughed at him. “I’ve only ever seen you this scared around Dendritic Cell and his cytokines. Such a_ brave _Immune Cell! Ha!”_

 _He didn’t even think to disagree, because frankly, he_ was _scared. Neither of them had time to dwell on this. The chamber grew significantly colder. It was almost putting him to sleep in a way... He then woke up in a new body alongside the others and, most importantly, Rouge._

“Having a staring contest with it or something?” Sweets’s sassy little voice pierced Wit’s thoughts. He jolted back to reality.

“What? Huh? Oh right. Outside the body. Transfusion. Right.” He shook his head as if it would somehow reorganize his thoughts. Sweets just gave him a weird look and the transfusion commenced without issue. Wit was transfixed by the whole process, the memory running through his polymorphic nucleus. 

The procedure concluded and Sweets left to rejoin her parents. Wit was lost in his thoughts. The Lymphocyte lookalike of an oncologist snapped his fingers to get Wit’s attention.

He grinned. “Get your mind blown?” 

Wit was now paying attention. “Yeah, I suppose so... Why did she need a transfusion?”

”Acute Myeloid Leukemia... Nasty thing... But with these transfusions and the chemotherapy treatments, I expect she’ll make it.” Gowans replied, solemn but with a hint of optimism. “I’ve beaten cancers before, so this should be no different. Cancers, viruses, the whole nine yards.” 

The Neutrophil nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen some stuff, too. I hope she makes it.” 

* * *

Gowans escorted Wit back to his room just in time for Talia to come pick him up.  Wit didn’t mention any of the events that occurred, planning on telling them later. Just before they left, Gowans pulled Wit aside for a moment.

“I heard about your friend Rouge. Don’t worry. We’ll find her, even if we need to test the entire city. I promise you, you have allies here, Mr. Neutrophil.” They shook hands and Wit rejoined Talia. He may be in the wild world beyond the epidermis, but he had hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Granules: a component of neutrophil anatomy. They are suspended in the cytoplasm and aggregate around phagocytic vacuoles containing ingested bacteria and serve to help “digest” the bacteria.
> 
> Names are significant... There’s more than meets the eye here.  
> Also, I realize that last bit might sound like I’m ending things. Believe me, I’m not! This story is FAR from over. This can sort of be considered the halfway point. And out of pure curiosity, I would greatly appreciate if my readers might comment something, especially since you tolerated Wit and I up to this point. So if you’ve made it this far, just toss a comment my way! I would greatly appreciate any feedback y’all can give me!
> 
> Much Love and Germs,  
> Ark
> 
> Ps: I’m considering also writing a prequel following Wit and Rouge on their cellular journeys. Any thoughts on that are welcome! I will also accept prompts for what they might encounter. The big question is: Should I finish this story first or work on both at the same time? Thank you!


	12. Education

_~Outside Learns Inside, Inside Learns Outside~_

 

* * *

 

Wit prepared himself for the day. He straightened his jacket, adjusted his belts, and combed out his unruly ivory hair. He plopped the White Blood Cell cap on his head and examined himself in the mirror, proud of those three words. He now knew that he didn’t have to do all this anymore. He didn’t _need_ to keep his knives in order or make sure he was wearing his L-Selectin. All of these measures were highly unnecessary, but he did them anyway. These morning rituals were a little piece of home. Of her. He’d gone where no living Cell had gone before: outside the body on the body’s level. He marveled at this. He had faced almost uncountable challenges. He’d fought T-Cells during Lupus, faced off with nutrient-stealing worms, battled numerous cancers, and even dealt with a body so immunecompromised that he may have well been the only Neutrophil there at all! Yet, here he was. Now exploring the final frontier for a Cell. This was ama—

Joy pounded on the bathroom door.

“What are you?? A teenage girl doing her makeup?? I need the bathroom too, y’know!” She was very impatient.

Wit gave himself a final look-over and opened the door. Joy shouldered passed him and got to work on her long, brown, tangled hair. 

“What are you in such a hurry for?” The Immune Cell inquired.

She finished quickly and headed to the kitchen as she answered, “Class in ten minutes! C’mon!” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him out the door, shoving a boiled egg into her mouth as she left. 

Joy practically dragged him through the city. Wit had to hold onto his hat to keep it from blowing away from him at this speed. 

“Calm down! I’m sure you’ll be fine if you’re a bit late!”

She kept going. “Can’t. It’s bio and the teacher hates my guts! I don’t even like bio!” 

* * *

Joy came panting into the classroom, still firmly grasped Wit’s sleeve. They were a minute on time. 

“S–Sorry..., Professor Osnowski!” She tried to catch her breath. Wit just stood there awkwardly, in better shape than Joy was. The professor, an older man in his sixties, just took this in stride. 

“Come to class today, Miss Johnson? I’m impressed. And who’s your friend here? He’s not on my attendance sheet.” The professor was calm.

Joy had completely forgotten that she’d brought Wit with her. 

“Oh! You’d love this! He’s a White Blood Cell!” She hastily blurted, trying to collect herself. Wit just waved.

The professor had a doubting look but once more went with the flow. Students snickered and whispered among themselves.

“And does this White Blood Cell have a name? Pop quiz, class! If we’re to believe this story of a Leukocyte walking among us, then let him describe himself. Bonus points on the next exam to whoever can tell me his specific kind.” Then he addressed Wit directly, “Go on then.”

Wit cleared his throat. “Well... umm... Hi, I’m Wit, as Joy calls me. I’m, umm, capable of phagocytosis and migration. I’m among the most common type of Leukocyte and I went to school in the Femur Bone Marrow.” He turned to Osnowski for feedback and received an approving nod. 

A student raised his hand. “May we ask questions?” 

Osnowski didn’t answer so Wit did. “Considering you just asked one, go ahead.”

“So..., what kind of cell are you?” A few students giggled.

“I have a feeling that I’m not allowed to answer that.” He glanced at Osnowski, who nodded again.

Wit shrugged. “Any final guesses? Maybe more questions?”

A cricket must’ve entered the classroom.

“Right... Professor? They didn’t guess.”

“Then just tell them.”

Wit nodded and returned focus to the students. “I’m a Neutrophil.”

At this, there were hisses and a few “I called its” and general dismay. 

“Wit, right? Would you like to sit in on our class? We’re actually discussing the immune system anyway.” Osnowski offered. Wit nodded and took a seat near the front beside Joy and an empty seat to the other side. Wit casually stole Joy’s textbook and leafed through it. He found an image of a sort of purple-ish blob with darker lobes within it. The caption claimed it to be a Neutrophil under a microscope. He was confused but dismissed it.

Osnowski continued to teach. “Cytotoxic T Cells’ main job is to take out virus-infected cells and cancerous cells. Can anyone tell me where these Lymphocytes develop?”

Wit’s hand shot up like an eager Myelocyte’s. 

“Wit?”

“The Thymus!”

“Correct.” Wit put his hand down. 

“Moving on.” Osnowski resumed, “Recent studies have shown that activated Neutrophils are equally as competent as Macrophages and Dendritic Cells in antigen presentation to Cytotoxic T Cells. What mechanism activates these Neutrophils?”

A **ping** rang out just as Wit was about to answer. His receptor demanded attention. A second later, a student entered the classroom and coughed. He was obviously sick, looking pale and tired. 

“Sorry I’m late, Ossy...” He coughed. 

Osnowski glanced between Wit and this newcomer. Wit instinctively put a hand on one of his knives but didn’t act on his desire to eliminate the antigen. 

“That’s no issue to me, Kayden. Take a seat next to Wit there.” The professor instructed. 

Kayden sat beside Wit as he was told to and tried to keep his sniffles to himself. The Neutrophil shifted away from him uncomfortably. Osnowski decided to move onto a different subject, taking note of Wit’s still-aggravated receptor.

“It would appear that Wit is demonstrating how immune cells recognize pathogens.” He stated, pointing to the receptor, which pinged as if in response. Wit felt his cheeks getting warm with a growing embarrassment. Joy giggled beside him.

“You’re turning into a Red Blood Cell..” She smiled. 

Kayden just coughed into his elbow, not very skilled in the art of paying attention. The sound just gave Wit an uncomfortable twinge in his mitochondria. He gripped the handle of one of his knives tightly but didn’t remove it from the sheath. He was sure that these people wouldn’t want to witness him phagocytosing their classmate. 

* * *

Osnowski ended the class after a few more minutes of teaching. He could tell that Wit’s persistent receptor was distracting everyone. “Class dismissed. Wit. Joy. Stay here for a moment, hm?”

They both nodded and stayed behind while everyone else left. When Kayden left the room, Wit’s receptor deactivated and bent back into its original position. Osnowski sighed. 

“Wit, it was a pleasure having you here. You’ve afforded my students a great learning opportunity. You’re welcome to return anytime.” 

Wit smiled and replied, “Thank you, Professor.”

The professor paused a moment, then added, “Just... umm... If you can, don’t bring the receptor. Or deactivate it. It’s very unfortunate that Kayden is ill and I’d rather that you don’t demonstrate phagocytosis, okay?”

“I’ll change the range on it, don’t worry.” 

Joy piped up, “May I ask something? Why don’t you think Wit’s crazy or something?”

“Hey!”

She elaborated a bit, “Like, who in their right mind says they’re a cell? It seems kinda weird.”

Osnowski pondered the question for a few moments. Wit just gave Joy a look, arms crossed. She shrugged to him.

“Had to ask.”

Osnowski regarded Wit with a fascinated expression. “I suppose I found no reason not to believe you. Your appearance, for example. Pale skin, white hair, but gray eyes instead of red. Humans are very rarely leucistic. They’re more often albino. And you have a vast array of knowledge, from what I’ve seen. Are you actually some sort of cell?”

“Indeed I am. I fell out of the body during an anthrax infection.” Wit affirmed, adjusting his hat slightly. 

Joy glanced at her neutrophilic companion with a look of anxiety on her face. 

“We should get going, I don’t wanna miss my history class. Coming with me?”

He looked down at her, being a full head taller, and replied with a nod. “I’m coming.” Then to Osnowski, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Professor.” 

“Likewise, young man. You both be on your way. Professor L’va doesn’t appreciate people being late. Especially now that he’s moved onto Ancient Rome.”

“Ro— _AGH!_ ” Joy interrupted Wit’s question and pulled him out quickly, yelling back, “BYE, PROFESSOR OZ!”

The professor waved as they ran/were pulled out the door. “Such a cute couple.”

* * *

Professor L’va had just started his lesson when two students barreled into his classroom. One was Joy, whom he loved to tease but didn’t actually dislike. The other was unfamiliar to him, looking like the palest person this side of the Tiber River. 

“And what are you doing so late, Joy?” He barked.

She hesitated for an answer while her partner studied the room.

“Sorry, Professor! We were busy with Professor Osnowski.” 

If Wit didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked like an Erythrocyte confronted by a hemolytic bacterium. He slipped his arm out of her loose grip and addressed the professor.

“I’m sorry for Joy being late, sir.”

“‘Sir...’ What are we, in the army?”

Wit glanced at the current presentation slide on the board. It was about the Roman military. He assumed that, anyway.

“No... Perhaps the Roman legion?” He dared a joke, anxiety creeping up his cytoskeleton.

Professor L’va chuckled. “The Roman legion... Alright, alright. I forgive ya. Sit down, the both of you!”

They nodded quickly and sat in two empty seats near the back. 

* * *

As L’va taught his lesson, Wit’s hand rose. 

“What is it, albino?”

His words were biting, but Wit detected a benign and joking tone underneath. Plus, L’va had addressed other students in a similar manner the entire time.

“I was just wondering... what is all this stuff? What’s Rome? And you mentioned a ‘Greece’ and ‘Troy’. What are they? People?”

This took everyone aback. Some audibly gasped, making heat rise up in Wit’s membrane. He must look as red as an Erythrocyte right now!

“Have you been living under a rock your whole life? Geez... My one-eyed cat knows that!”

“Something like that.” Wit sheepishly replied, silently unsure of what a ‘cat’ was.

* * *

L’va continued and concluded his lesson. He left before even the most eager students could. Wit was left sitting there in confusion beside Joy. 

"That was... something." Wit profoundly stated.

Joy looked at him incredulously. "You never had a history class?" She raised a questioning eyebrow when he shook his head. "That's just... kinda sad."

Her phone rang. It was Talia.

_"Joy? Where's Wit? He better not be lost again."_

"No, don't worry. I have him. Professor Oz likes him. L'va... not so much."

Joy could sense Talia rolling her eyes.

_"Does that guy like anyone, though?”_

"Truuuueee.... Anyway, we're gonna stop by the cafe and get a bite to eat, then we'll head home. Kay?

 _"Fine by me. Seeya."_ Talia hung up.

Wit had been staring like a nosy Myelocyte. "Talking about me? I'm flattered."

Joy just sighed and rolled her eyes in amusement. 

* * *

Joy had Wit by the hand and guided him into the little café on campus. He was focused on the various students and they, in turn, barely hid the fact that they were staring at him. His companion brought him over to a table and they sat across from each other. 

"I'll go order. Anything you want? Water? Soup?" Joy offered. Wit opened his mouth to answer but Joy interrupted him. “And don’t say ‘germs.’”

“Damn.”

She chuckled. “Maybe some soup.”

At Wit’s nod, she went to get the food. As always, he observed the other Cel— people. He stopped himself, trying to remember and conceptualize where he was. He watched a father with his younger daughter, trying to imagine their Cells. He’d been in similar bodies to both of them. It was incredible that he could be out here to watch them. He got a view that some Cells only saw in their dreams! 

Joy plopped herself down across from him with a tray of his soup (broccoli and cheddar) and her own sandwich (BLT). He squinted at the food, inspecting it. Neither meals had any pathogenic bacteria that he could see. Nothing that stomach acid or his granules couldn’t destroy, anyway. 

“Trying to stare it to death?”

Joy had a knack for breaking his concentration. 

“Just inspecting for bacteria or viruses.”

“You can _see_ germs??? I trust you on this ‘immune cell stuff’ but that seems a bit much.”

“I’m serious! And I can taste them.”

“ _Blech!_ Okay, I’m done talking about this! I’m trying to eat.”

Wit shrugged and took a spoonful of soup. The tastes were exquisite. The cheese blending marvelously with the _Streptococci,_ and the broccoli went beautifully with the _Pseudomonas_. He had really missed the taste of pure bacteria and felt himself getting lost in the flavors.

“Goodness! I’ve never seen someone so hypnotized by soup! You’d think there was some drug in it or something with that face! And there’s no way in hell I’m introducing you to drugs.” Joy commented.

He paused and fell out of his euphoria. Memories flashed in his mind of being constricted in the grip of a less-than-gentle automaton from the outside.

He shrugged off the unwelcome memory. “Been there, done that.”

Joy gave him a look of ‘I’m so done with this shit’ and continued eating. He only took a few more spoonfuls of soup and it was properly phagocytosed... err... eaten. Same thing. 

* * *

Joy and Wit returned to the apartment building. Something felt... off... They turned down the hall towards the stairs that led up to the third floor, where Talia's apartment was, and noticed one of the doors slightly ajar. Sounds echoed from the door, like things were getting thrown around. 

"That's the Whistlewood's apartment... They're supposed to be out of town in Florida." Joy explained in a hushed, nervous tone.

Wit was a bit too preoccupied to question what 'Florida' was as he drew a combat knife from a sheath on the side of his thigh. He crept closer to the door, bracing for danger. Joy nearly jumped fright at the sight of the knife but restrained herself. 

"Be careful..." She breathed, anxiety creeping over her.

He peered through the gap, eyes widening as he took in at the scene. A ragged-looking man was rummaging through the Whistlewood's cabinet in their kitchen. It was obvious that he was armed, with a pistol tucked into his belt. Wit immediately went to formulating a plan of attack. How he wished he could call backup! He thrust his desires aside and burst in, charging at the robber. The robber turned abruptly and fumbled for his weapon. Wit rammed into him and knocked the intruder to the ground. He had gotten a hold of the gun and fired with a classic  _ **BANG!**_ Wit let out a little grunt as a bullet tore through his lower left leg. He ignored the searing pain, preparing to retaliate with his blade.

The robber sprung to his feet and bolted. The Cell gave chase. He was activated as if by an antigen and didn't notice the stabs that went through his leg with each footfall. The robber was foolish and thought he could lose his pursuer if he ran up the many flights of stairs to the roof. He underestimated Wit's tenacity, as the Neutrophil was hot on his trail. When they got between the fourth and fifth floors, Wit stretched out his arm and caught hold of the back of the guy’s shirt. He held tightly and pulled, sending the robber falling backwards into him. They both tumbled down, fighting and scrabbling at each other until Wit’s spine hit the floor of the landing. The robber had him pinned, a firm hand on his shoulder and his sharp knees digging into Wit’s abdomen. The other hand held the gun in Wit’s face, ready to fire. Wit’s own hands were trapped between himself and the robber’s body. He didn’t have time to think, lest his nucleus be blown to smithereens. The Cell tightened his grip on the handle of his knife and shot his arm up, the blade embedding into his assailant’s beer-fattened stomach. 

“ _ACK!_ ”

The robber fell to the side, clutching his wound. Wit removed the knife and got to his feet with a bit of a struggle. He stumbled towards the stairs going up and collapsed onto them, leg wound burning from the exertion as the rush of the fight wore off. He panted to catch his breath and collect himself. The robber was moaning in pain from the stab and bleeding, but at nowhere near a fatal rate. Wit himself was bleeding rather heavily. The bullet must’ve nicked an artery, maybe even bone. All he knew was that it hurt like hell. He was sweating from the effort of the fight. He was hot under his multi-layered uniform and exhausted. Cytoplasm bled from the gunshot wound at a steady rate, staining his white pant leg. He was used to cytoplasm ruining uniforms, but the amount he was losing was alarming. He had even tracked red cytoplasm up the stairs during the pursuit. His head felt light... The world was fading out of view... Where’s Rouge...?

* * *

A tight pain under his knee woke him suddenly. He gasped from the sensation, eyes snapping open as he jolted upright. A paramedic finished securing a tourniquet around his leg and noticed that her patient had woken.

The paramedic was fairly young, about mid-20s based on appearance. She was very pale and had added some blotches of blush to her cheeks to try and hide it. She wasn’t very skilled at makeup. She had her hair cut short and it was a dark ebony to match her onyx irises. It seemed as if her roots were graying out to a white-ish color despite her young age. Her nametag said Lucy N. Valge. 

She bandaged his leg would just as her comrades were taking the unconscious robber away in a gurney. 

“Feeling okay?” At Wit’s nod, she continued, “Then I suppose we’re off.”

Lucy helped Wit to his feet and she helped him hobble down the stairs, an arm under his own and around his back to help support his weight. She tried to make casual conversation as they passed Joy, who was being questioned by police officers.

“So where’re you from?”

Wit wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s... a long story.”

She simply nodded, satisfied with that. “Mhm.”

They climbed up into a waiting ambulance and drove off.


	13. Sweetness, Spots, Suspicions

_~Great King, Seek Ye Hope And The Ruby Salvation~_

 

* * *

 

Wit spent a few boring days in the hospital. Joy and Talia had visited often, but he knew that they had lives and jobs and school to get to. His leg was better, at least. He could now stand and walk without any assistance, though it hurt like hell when he did. The doctor caring for him was actually Metchnikoff. Though he was in the psychiatric department, he had full authorization to take over Wit’s case from a fully medical standpoint. That is, no one thought that Wit was crazy.

The doctor had fussed over him endlessly, even managing to acquire a form of his favorite bacterial soup. Wit wasn’t sure why Metchnikoff favored him so much, but he’d gladly let it go to have a taste of some delicious  _Streptococcus_ _mutans_. 

That paramedic had returned. She didn’t show nearly as much care, probably because he wasn’t her patient, but she was still friendly. She reminded him very much of a Neutrophil from one of his past hosts. There had been a Neutrophil lady that often joined the Macrophages in caring for the wounded after a battle. That body had been weird. It was the only one where he could travel to a vessel in the iris and actually comprehend what he was seeing. Now that he thought about it... that body had a lot of blood vessels in the iris and hardly any Cells to produce pigment*.

As he was reflecting on these events, someone opened the door to his room.

“Now be gen—” The voice was interrupted by someone throwing herself onto Wit’s chest. He grunted from the impact.

“Sweets? Hi!” He hugged her and the child buried her face into his clothes, latching onto him in the vice-like grip akin to that of a virus particle. 

“I missed you, Mr. White Blood Cell!”

“How—?” He noticed Gowans in the doorway and pleaded for help with his eyes.

Gowans smiled and focused on Sweets.

“I believe you have news for him, Sweets?” The doctor coaxed.

She shot up with the realization, her hands pressing into Wit’s chest as she supported her upper body on them.

“Oh right!” She exclaimed. “I don’t have leukemia! I do have a hemoglobin problem, though. The lab lady made a mistake. But it’s fine. My hair is even coming back!” She took off her hat to show short growths of brown hair returning.

Wit was very happy for her and grinned. “That’s wonderful, Sweets! Was that transfusion harmful?”

Gowans answered for her. “Not really. Just a bit unnecessary and unusual. No harm was done.”

“That’s good.”

She went back to hugging Wit. She was surprisingly strong.

“I think she likes you.” Gowans unnecessarily pointed out.

Wit just returned the hug, but more gently.

* * *

“C’mon! Please tell another one!” Sweets begged, sitting on Wit’s lap. 

He had moved to the chair in the corner of the room, sick of being excessively idle. He had just finished telling her about big battle with a  _Staphylococcus_ _aureus_. 

She buried her face in his shirt and gave a muffled “please”. How could he deny her? He decided on a favorite of the bone marrow.

“Well. Have you ever heard of _Pseudomonas_ _aeruginosa_?”

She looked up at him incredulously, then recognition dawned on her face and she nodded.

“Well. I encountered one in the foot, right? It was a nasty thing, trying to attack Cells. So being the brave Neutrophil that I am, I took it down and saved the Cells of the foot! The end.”

“So brave...” She was sarcastic. “Anyone and their Stem Cell could take down a _Pseudomonas_.”

“Go on, then. Show me how to kill a _Pseudomonas_.” He got up, limping to the other side of the room. He went into his best “I’m a germ” impression. “Grrr!”

She smiled and launched herself at him, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbled with the impact but remained standing. 

“Die, germ!” She hit at him gently.

He dramatically fell over in a controlled fall.

“Ack! I am slain! You have bested me, noble Neutrophil! Bleh...” And he pretended to die. 

Sweets giggled in a sweet way. She poked him.

“C’mon, Wit. Wit...?” 

He grinned and sat up. 

“Blarg!!! Nyahaha!” He held his hands up in a clawing motion. She was startled and squealed. 

“Don’t do that! Ughh! Boys!”

* * *

Talia and Joy entered the room, where Sweets was taking a nap on top of Wit in the hospital bed. He brought a finger to his lips.

"Shhh... She's asleep..." He whispered.

Joy and Talia glanced at each other. Who was this girl?

"We have to go, y'know." Talia quietly reminded him.

She scanned him discreetly. His leg had healed perfectly. The android approached, processing how to proceed without disturbing this mysterious child. She hoped Wit would offer some assistance. Wit noticed the plea in her expression and gently shook Sweets' shoulder.

"Sweets.. Wake up.. I have to leave now." He said in a hushed tone.

She stirred and murmured inaudibly, clinging tighter to Wit's shirt.

"Come on.. Don't be like that.. We'll see each other soon, I promise." The Cell assured her. 

Joy, meanwhile, was nearly tearing up from the cuteness of it all. Wit tried to stand up from the bed, but Sweets was still hanging onto him such that he practically had to carry her. She seemed to be about twelve by Joy's estimate, though she seemed light. Wit had no trouble supporting her weight, even with a sore leg. For such a tough Immune Cell, he sure was good with kids... or at least this one. He tried to get Sweets to let go, gently prying her hands from their grip on his uniform jacket. 

"Please, Sweets. I have to get back to work. C'mon, my little Erythroblast. We can try to find Gowans." He coaxed.

Sweets reluctantly relented and allowed him to set her back onto her feet. 

"He's a T-Cell, y'know!" She piped up. 

Wit nodded, but Joy could tell he didn't believe her. "I'm sure he is."

* * *

Talia was in the kitchen making lunch. Wit waited patiently, fiddling with his detached receptor. 

“Any requests?” The android asked. “And I’m not dirtying my kitchen for your gross diet. You’re eating normal food.”

“Fine. Umm... What does Joy like?”

“She usually likes ramen. Probably got it from her broke college friends. Speaking of which, have you seen her around at all?” She wondered, slightly worrying for her friend. Joy was supposed to be out of class and home by now. 

“Can’t say that I have. I think she went to class after we got home from the hospital.” He replied as Talia began preparing the noodles.

“By the way, don’t just run in if you seem someone committing a crime. Just try to get the details and call the cops. Any more injuries like that and I’ll have you get a job just to foot the bill.” She told him, knowing how annoying it was whenever a civilian got tussled into her job as a cop. 

“But I do have a job.”

“Professional germ killers are either doctors, scientists, or janitors. Take your pick.”

“You sound almost... umm... experienced with this.”

She smiled a bit. “I’ve seen my fair share of crazy people in my day.” There was a hint of something in her eyes as she looked back at him from the stove. Wit could only describe it as conspiratorial.

She finished and set the bowl of noodles in front of him. As he dug in, his receptor pinged from its spot on the counter. Talia tilted her head, slightly puzzled. 

“Huh. I didn’t think noodles have that many germs.” 

Wit squinted at the bowl, only able to see the typical amount of little bacterium-indicating dots jumping out in his vision. 

“Maybe I put the sensitivity on the receptor too high. Weird.”

He picked it up and attached it to its normal wire connected to his L-Selectin beneath the uniform jacket. He reached up and changed the range and sensitivity to normal settings. He clipped it to the back of his collar so he didn’t have to detach it again, as his hat was in the guest bedroom that he had claimed. The receptor remained activated.

“It’s still raised.” Talia pointed out. “Any clue what it’s detecting?”

Wit shook his head, prepared to ignore it and finish his meal, when Joy finally came through the door. She looked terrible, sniffling and trying to hold back coughs. She entered and sat at the counter, watching them with slightly inflamed eyes. Wit flinched, the receptor expressing its disgust with another ping behind his head.

“Is it bad?” She asked in a nasal voice from her stuffy nose.

“Uh... You could say that...” He flinched as she sneezed. “‘Scuse you.”

Talia scanned her roommate and could fairly easily determine what her diagnosis was. “Measles. Joy, were you vaccinated?”

She nodded but didn’t seem entirely confident. “Never caught up with the booster...”

Wit facepalmed with an audible _smack_.

“And why the hell didn’t you do that?? Your poor cells must be struggling!”

They both looked at him. Joy, with apprehension. Talia, with worry. 

“You’re not gonna try and phago-whatever me, are you?” Joy asked nervously.

Wit shook his head. “Of course not!” He replied adamantly. 

Talia looked between both of them. 

“Measles can also target neutrophils, y’know.” She informed them.

Wit already knew this, hence his avoidance of Joy while also trying to be polite. The receptor demanded attention once more and he deactivated it manually.

“She should see a doctor...” He sounded very concerned for her.

* * *

So they went to see Joy’s family doctor. He was a man by the name of Aleudla N. Kouchuukyuu. He was typically just called Dr. Koko. He tended not to reveal his actual last name, as it was especially long. 

As Joy, Talia, and Wit entered the office to check in with the receptionist, Dr. Koko nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of them. The doctor had a rather pale complexion, with graying hair despite his otherwise young appearance, and piercing light eyes that constantly analyzed for disease. He seemed to look eternally frazzled.

“Why Joy! It’s quite a pleasant surprise to see you.” He always had a nervous energy about him, as if he were constantly in the wrong place despite this being his own practice. However, his tendency towards anxiety was almost absent at the moment. The trio turned to him. 

“Hi, Dr. Koko.” Joy waved, suppressing a cough. 

Talia and Wit just glanced at each other. 

Dr. Koko approached them. 

“I remember you, Talia. It’s good to see you.” He shook her hand. 

Wit noticed that Koko seemed a little bit fearful of the android. The two of them were of about the same height and build, though Koko seemed to have lost his muscle mass while Wit had yet to. 

Koko offered his hand, which was accepted. 

“I say, I’ve been waiting to see another, hm? I’m sure you have as well.”

Wit was a bit distracted by the new surroundings and almost missed that statement. Almost. 

“Another...?”

Koko gave Wit’s hat a tap, then broke off to focus on his patient. 

“Please, you three follow me. Mr. Leukocyte, I suggest you keep your distance from Joy.”

He led them to an examination room.

“That was the plan...” Wit mumbled, following.

They entered the room and Koko prepared the instruments for use in the examination. 

“Say, how do you know Joy?” Wit asked curiously.

“I was very well acquainted with her mother. I suppose you could say I was... well... she liked to call me a ‘blood brother’ for whatever reason.” He answered, not looking away from his work.

Joy sat on the exam table while the fidgety doctor dug through a drawer. As he did so, Wit’s receptor rang out. 

“Must be new customers. Flu season’s a bitch.” Koko muttered, glancing at the receptor. “Go take care of whoever it is.”

“ _What?_ ” Wit blinked in confusion. “I can’t diagnose anyone. Not without a sample at least.”

Koko rolled his eyes. He must’ve lost his marbles years ago by the looks of it. “Then borrow the... the...” he lost the word, “the _thingy_. Y’know, the germ finding thingy. Like the one you’ve got. Mine can tell ya what the antigen is. Now git before ya get infected with Joy’s virus.”

Wit was very puzzled by the doctor’s odd behavior. Though, he figured that avoiding Joy would be smart. He excused himself from the room, reaching up and deactivating his receptor so as not to annoy the next patient. He caught a slightly familiar whiff of something as a boy and presumably his mom entered. The boy couldn’t have been more than ten, with straight blond hair typical of young boys. Wit greeted them. 

“Hello, ma’am. Dr. Kouchuukyuu is busy at the moment so he asked me to assist you.” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. Neutrophils were hardly trained in any sort of bedside manner. He just tried to mimic the much more polite Macrophages.

They followed him to a neighboring exam room. Wit rummaged through the drawers for anything useful. He found unused syringes, a thermometer, a balled up lab coat, a petri dish of _Bacillus_ _subtilis_ labeled “—nch” (the first letters were smudged), and a few bandaids. His position was such that the two daggers hanging from the back of his belt were sticking out and thus more obvious. The mother was perturbed, while her son found this all very interesting. 

Wit eventually found what he was looking for. The device looked very much like his receptor, but it had an extra ring on the target-part’s design. He also noticed that it had no wire. He shrugged to himself and hovered it near the boy. A reading came up on the back: H1N2. So Koko was correct. It was indeed the flu. At this point, Wit was lost. He didn’t know anything about treatments beyond simple phagocytosis and maybe some rarely used NETosis** and oxidation***. 

“Excuse me a moment. The doctor will see you shortly.” He went and returned to Koko, who was writing out a prescription. 

Talia was quite interested in Koko’s diagnostic receptor, while Joy had never thought much of anything about it. 

“Doctor, your other patient has the flu. H1N2, nothing serious.” Wit reported.

Koko glanced over. “I’ll handle it.” He handed the prescription to Wit as he practically scurried out of the room.

Talia looked Wit over for a second. 

“Well, what do you think of Koko?” She asked.

“He’s a bit of a weirdo.”

“And you’re not?” Joy added, grinning.

Wit crossed his arms. “Hmph.” But he wasn’t actually offended.

Koko returned by peeking into the room. “You can leave now, by the way. And Mr. Leukocyte, do come back. I’ve been terribly lonely.” And with that, he left to continue his own business. 

* * *

While Joy was in her room, Wit took a moment in the living room to reflect. This outside world wasn’t as terrible as they had always made it out to be. He couldn’t help but have this strange feeling of familiarity, as if he’d been here before. Not this room specifically, but outside the body. His thoughts shifted. How he missed Rouge was there to enjoy this with him...

Talia broke his thoughts as she sat beside him. 

“Hey. Did you notice anything... weird... about that Koko?” She asked.

He looked over at her inquisitively. “I don’t think so... He just seemed weird in general. Why?”

“Uh... No reason. Anyway, I’m gonna give Joy her medicine. Doc said to keep the fluids high and fevers low.” She got up and went to the kitchen. He followed with a few protests.

“Medicine? Can’t we just let her body handle it? In my experience, medicine only complicates matters.” He crossed his arms as she pulled a bottle of Tylenol from the cabinet. 

“One word, Mr. Genius Neutrophil. Antibiotics. Heard of them?” She gave him a smug grin. 

Wit sighed. “I’m just a little wary of medication is all.”

Talia began preparing some soup. “You shouldn’t’ve taken that steroid, y’know. It’ll fuck you up sideways, but you knew that already.” 

“What’s all this about...?” Joy asked, definitely sounding unwell. She was itching a spot behind her ear. 

Talia went over to her, a glare directed at Wit that just dared him to get any closer and infect himself. He didn’t move from his spot.

“You should be back in bed, Joy. Let’s go lay down again. Wit, make sure the soup doesn’t burn.” She said, gingerly guiding Joy back to her room. 

Wit loyally watched over the soup, wanting to do more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hyperoculovascularism: A fictional condition of my own creation. It’s a dominant genetic condition in which the iris lacks pigment and is covered in almost microscopic blood vessels, leading to a blood red appearance of the iris. The sclera (white part of the eye) is unchanged. There are no effects on vision. The only symptom is occasionally irritated and itchy eyes.
> 
> **NETosis: Neutrophil Extracellular Traps (NETs) are networks of extracellular fibers, primarily composed of DNA from neutrophils, which bind pathogens. This makes it more difficult for pathogens to escape. It also has bactericidal chemicals that don’t harm the host cells. However, this process can damage or kill the Neutrophil.
> 
> ***Oxidation: Oxygen is a very reactive element. Neutrophils can give off trioxide (O3) and similar compounds to break down the cell walls of bacteria, both extracellularly and during the “digestion” process of phagocytosis. (The digestion process also involves enzymes and is called degranulation.)


	14. Arbiters

_ ~Liquid Life Sustains The Infinite; Two First Among Their Kind Will Be Guardians Of Her Code~ _

 

* * *

 

 

”Oh my, are you sure this will work?” An elegant British tone rang out, fretting madly for her child. She clung to the hand of her child on the bed.

”Fear not, Fauna. I trust Avalon’s judgement. However, I fear he desires her.” A crimson-maned man answered in a calming voice. He turned to another at the table of various scientific equipment. “Dinamus, have you prepared to select the sample?”

”Of course. The prophecy states whom we shall take. I just hope this unorthodox plan is actually possible. Infinity’s genetics can be preserved with much more conventional means, you know.” The gray haired scientist replied. He went over to the other side of the bed and took Infinity’s frail arm. The girl was no more than twelve and a severe head injury threatened her life. She’d been tragically lobotomized in an accident, yet she clung to life. 

Dinamus carefully felt along the arm, searching for his proper target. He found vessels easily enough, but they didn’t have what he needed. An intuition struck him and he inserted the syringe into the artery of her neck. He carefully drew the teensy tiniest drop of blood. He gingerly removed the syringe and injected the tiny sample onto a microscope slide.

”What was that all about? Why do you need her blood?” The British voice demanded. 

“For her DNA.” The crimson one answered. 

“Such a small amount?”

The other one, Dinamus, answered. “We only need two of them. With Antonov’s help, my plan should be perfectly successful.” 

Antonov, the redhead, nodded. “Are they ready yet? Did we get the right ones?”

Dinamus looked up. “I believe so. They are both from the fetal stage of development as per her previous tests required. They should also be the same as prophesied.”

“Previous tests?!” Fauna nearly screeched. 

“When she initially came to us, I investigated her internal culture,” Antonov explained, “And Dinamus took blood samples. We found that nearly all of the blood cells that formed in utero had survived into her older years when she came to us at ten. They should’ve been replaced nearly a hundred times over, yet they remained. Those formed after birth displayed the default lifespan. So, we need to preserve fetal erythrocytes and leukocytes to keep her genetics alive. As you know, she is almost certain to die within the week...”

Fauna looked at her daughter, preemptive grief welling up in her gut. 

“So, you’re simply preserving a blood sample? Perhaps in the Archives?”

Dinamus hesitated, glancing at Antonov. “Not... exactly. They’ll be preserved, certainly. But if someone wants to destroy the sample, they must be protected in plain sight. Well... they will walk among us.” 

“You’re kidding.” Her face was full of doubt.

”Nope.” Dinamus grinned mischievously. “It’ll be an unprecedented breakthrough in cytology.”

”Surely a blood bank would take them.” Fauna suggested.

”Let’s not hold back science. Besides, the prophecy dictates that it must go this way.” Antonov stayed, placing the microscope slide into an empty Petri dish. He also grabbed a book from his lab coat pocket and walked away with the two items. 

* * *

Dinamus entered the testing room about a half hour after Antonov left it. There were two people laying on the bed together, fast asleep. They were still in their original clothes, red and white. 

“By Glaux, Ant’s plan worked...”

He carefully approached the female on the bed. He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, strands of her long ginger red hair falling onto his hand. She stirred slightly, murmuring and turning over, an arm wrapping around her white-clad companion. Dinamus went to the other side of the bed, studying the male next to her. His white hair was wavy and slightly unkempt, likely due to just being asleep. Dinamus examined the white hat on the nightstand, checking the identification code that Antonov had told him to look for. U-1000. It was correct. He nodded to himself and set it back down, going to the opposite side and checking the lady’s red hat. EF2000. Also correct. He exited the room quietly, turning off the lights to let the two new members of the world rest.

* * *

Dinamus was suddenly woken by his phone ringing beside him. He reached over and grabbed it.

”It’s two in the morning, what does Any want now..?” He grumbled and answered the phone. “Dinamus speaking.”

”We have a problem. They were discovered!” Antonov told him frantically.

Shit. They feared this would happen. Some people sought Infinity’s death. Why? They weren’t sure. 

“Are they in danger?” Dinamus asked, getting out of bed and hurriedly putting shoes and a coat on. 

“We found a willing person to help with the reversal process. I fear that others of their kind might walk among us as well. It would take time to complete the full reversal process.”

”Don’t worry about that! Just get those two safe and we can worry about the repercussions later!”

* * *

As their willing participant sat patiently during the injection procedure, Antonov mumbled to himself. He sighed. 

“I feel your journey has only begun...”

 


End file.
